At Sea
The following day was somewhat calmer, although the gale still
continued. The sun had, however, risen through a bank of orange clouds,
tingeing with its cheerful rays the crests of the black waves. Watch
was impatiently kept from the different look-outs. Towards eleven
o’clock in the morning a ship, with sails full set, was signalled as in
view; two others followed at the distance of about half a knot. They
approached like arrows shot from the bow of a skillful archer; and yet
the sea ran so high that their speed was as nothing compared to the
rolling of the billows in which the vessels were plunging first in one
direction and then in another. The English fleet was soon recognized by
the line of the ships, and by the color of their pennants; the one
which had the princess on board and carried the admiral’s flag preceded
the others.
The rumor now spread that the princess was arriving. The whole French
court ran to the harbor, while the quays and jetties were soon covered
by crowds of people. Two hours afterwards, the other vessels had
overtaken the flagship, and the three, not venturing perhaps to enter
the narrow entrance of the harbor, cast anchor between Havre and La
Heve. When the maneuver had been completed, the vessel which bore the
admiral saluted France by twelve discharges of cannon, which were
returned, discharge for discharge, from Fort Francis I. Immediately
afterwards a hundred boats were launched; they were covered with the
richest stuffs, and destined for the conveyance of the different
members of the French nobility towards the vessels at anchor. But when
it was observed that even inside the harbor the boats were tossed to
and fro, and that beyond the jetty the waves rose mountains high,
dashing upon the shore with a terrible uproar, it will readily be
believed that not one of those frail boats would be able with safety to
reach a fourth part of the distance between the shore and the vessels
at anchor. A pilot-boat, however, notwithstanding the wind and the sea,
was getting ready to leave the harbor, for the purpose of placing
itself at the admiral’s disposal.
De Guiche, who had been looking among the different boats for one
stronger than the others, which might offer a chance of reaching the
English vessels, perceiving the pilot-boat getting ready to start, said
to Raoul: “Do you not think, Raoul, that intelligent and vigorous men,
as we are, ought to be ashamed to retreat before the brute strength of
wind and waves?”
“That is precisely the very reflection I was silently making to
myself,” replied Bragelonne.
“Shall we get into that boat, then, and push off? Will you come, De
Wardes?”
“Take care, or you will get drowned,” said Manicamp.
“And for no purpose,” said De Wardes, “for with the wind in your teeth,
as it will be, you will never reach the vessels.”
“You refuse, then?”
“Assuredly I do; I would willingly risk and lose my life in an
encounter against men,” he said, glancing at Bragelonne, “but as to
fighting with oars against waves, I have no taste for that.”
“And for myself,” said Manicamp, “even were I to succeed in reaching
the ships, I should not be indifferent to the loss of the only good
dress which I have left,—salt water would spoil it.”
“You, then, refuse also?” exclaimed De Guiche.
“Decidedly I do; I beg you to understand that most distinctly.”
“But,” exclaimed De Guiche, “look, De Wardes—look, Manicamp—look
yonder, the princesses are looking at us from the poop of the admiral’s
vessel.”
“An additional reason, my dear fellow, why we should not make ourselves
ridiculous by being drowned while they are looking on.”
“Is that your last word, Manicamp?”
“Yes.”
“And then yours, De Wardes?”
“Yes.”
“Then I go alone.”
“Not so,” said Raoul, “for I shall accompany you; I thought it was
understood I should do so.”
The fact is, that Raoul, uninfluenced by devotion, measuring the risk
they run, saw how imminent the danger was, but he willingly allowed
himself to accept a peril which De Wardes had declined.
The boat was about to set off when De Guiche called to the pilot.
“Stay,” said he: “we want two places in your boat;” and wrapping five
or six pistoles in paper, he threw them from the quay into the boat.
“It seems you are not afraid of salt water, young gentlemen.”
“We are afraid of nothing,” replied De Guiche.
“Come along, then.”
The pilot approached the side of the boat, and the two young men, one
after the other, with equal vivacity, jumped into the boat. “Courage,
my men,” said De Guiche; “I have twenty pistoles left in this purse,
and as soon as we reach the admiral’s vessel they shall be yours.” The
sailors bent themselves to their oars, and the boat bounded over the
crest of the waves. The interest taken in this hazardous expedition was
universal; the whole population of Havre hurried towards the jetties
and every look was directed towards the little bark; at one moment it
flew suspended on the crest of the foaming waves, then suddenly glided
downwards towards the bottom of a raging abyss, where it seemed utterly
lost. At the expiration of an hour’s struggling with the waves, it
reached the spot where the admiral’s vessel was anchored, and from the
side of which two boats had already been dispatched towards their aid.
Upon the quarter-deck of the flagship, sheltered by a canopy of velvet
and ermine, which was suspended by stout supports, Henrietta, the queen
dowager, and the young princess—with the admiral, the Duke of
Norfolk—standing beside them—watched with alarm this slender bark, at
one moment tossed to the heavens, and the next buried beneath the
waves, and against whose dark sail the noble figures of the two French
gentlemen stood forth in relief like two luminous apparitions. The
crew, leaning against the bulwarks and clinging to the shrouds, cheered
the courage of the two daring young men, the skill of the pilot, and
the strength of the sailors. They were received at the side of the
vessel by a shout of triumph. The Duke of Norfolk, a handsome young
man, from twenty-six to twenty-eight years of age, advanced to meet
them. De Guiche and Bragelonne lightly mounted the ladder on the
starboard side, and conducted by the Duke of Norfolk, who resumed his
place near them, they approached to offer their homage to the
princesses. Respect, and yet more, a certain apprehension, for which he
could not account, had hitherto restrained the Comte de Guiche from
looking at Madame attentively, who, however, had observed him
immediately, and had asked her mother, “Is not that Monsieur in the
boat yonder?” Madame Henrietta who knew Monsieur better than her
daughter did, smiled at the mistake her vanity had led her into, and
had answered, “No; it is only M. de Guiche, his favorite.” The
princess, at this reply, was constrained to check an instinctive
tenderness of feeling which the courage displayed by the count had
awakened. At the very moment the princess had put this question to her
mother, De Guiche had, at last, summoned courage to raise his eyes
towards her and could compare the original with the portrait he had so
lately seen. No sooner had he remarked her pale face, her eyes so full
of animation, her beautiful nut-brown hair, her expressive lips, and
her every gesture, which, while betokening royal descent, seemed to
thank and to encourage him at one and the same time, than he was, for a
moment, so overcome, that, had it not been for Raoul, on whose arm he
leant, he would have fallen. His friend’s amazed look, and the
encouraging gesture of the queen, restored Guiche to his
self-possession. In a few words he explained his mission, explained in
what way he had become the envoy of his royal highness; and saluted,
according to their rank and the reception they gave him, the admiral
and several of the English noblemen who were grouped around the
princesses.
Raoul was then presented, and was most graciously received; the share
that the Comte de la Fere had had in the restoration of Charles II. was
known to all; and, more than that, it was the comte who had been
charged with the negotiation of the marriage, by means of which the
granddaughter of Henry IV. was now returning to France. Raoul spoke
English perfectly, and constituted himself his friend’s interpreter
with the young English noblemen, who were indifferently acquainted with
the French language. At this moment a young man came forward, of
extremely handsome features, and whose dress and arms were remarkable
for their extravagance of material. He approached the princesses, who
were engaged in conversation with the Duke of Norfolk, and, in a voice
which ill concealed his impatience, said, “It is time now to disembark,
your royal highness.” The younger of the princesses rose from her seat
at this remark, and was about to take the hand which the young nobleman
extended to her, with an eagerness which arose from a variety of
motives, when the admiral intervened between them, observing; “A
moment, if you please, my lord; it is not possible for ladies to
disembark just now, the sea is too rough; it is probable the wind may
abate before sunset, and the landing will not be effected, therefore,
until this evening.”
“Allow me to observe, my lord,” said Buckingham, with an irritation of
manner which he did not seek to disguise, “you detain these ladies, and
you have no right to do so. One of them, unhappily, now belongs to
France, and you perceive that France claims them by the voice of her
ambassadors;” and at the same moment he indicated Raoul and Guiche,
whom he saluted.
“I cannot suppose that these gentlemen intend to expose the lives of
their royal highnesses,” replied the admiral.
“These gentlemen,” retorted Buckingham, “arrived here safely,
notwithstanding the wind; allow me to believe that the danger will not
be greater for their royal highnesses when the wind will be in their
favor.”
“These envoys have shown how great their courage is,” said the admiral.
“You may have observed that there was a great number of persons on
shore who did not venture to accompany them. Moreover, the desire which
they had to show their respect with the least possible delay to Madame
and her illustrious mother induced them to brave the sea, which is very
tempestuous to-day, even for sailors. These gentlemen, however, whom I
recommend as an example for my officers to follow, can hardly be so for
these ladies.”
Madame glanced at the Comte de Guiche, and perceived that his face was
burning with confusion. This look had escaped Buckingham, who had eyes
for nothing but Norfolk, of whom he was evidently very jealous; he
seemed anxious to remove the princesses from the deck of a vessel where
the admiral reigned supreme. “In that case,” returned Buckingham, “I
appeal to Madame herself.”
“And I, my lord,” retorted the admiral, “I appeal to my own conscience,
and to my own sense of responsibility. I have undertaken to convey
Madame safe and sound to France, and I shall keep my promise.”
“But sir——” continued Buckingham.
“My lord, permit me to remind you that I command here.”
“Are you aware what you are saying, my lord?” replied Buckingham,
haughtily.
“Perfectly so; I therefore repeat it: I alone command here, all yield
obedience to me; the sea and the winds, the ships and men too.” This
remark was made in a dignified and authoritative manner. Raoul observed
its effect upon Buckingham, who trembled with anger from head to foot,
and leaned against one of the poles of the tent to prevent himself
falling; his eyes became suffused with blood, and the hand which he did
not need for his support wandered towards the hilt of his sword.
“My lord,” said the queen, “permit me to observe that I agree in every
particular with the Duke of Norfolk; if the heavens, instead of being
clouded as they are at the present moment, were perfectly serene and
propitious, we can still afford to bestow a few hours upon the officer
who has conducted us so successfully, and with such extreme attention,
to the French coast, where he is to take leave of us.”
Buckingham, instead of replying, seemed to seek counsel from the
expression of Madame’s face. She, however, half-concealed beneath the
thick curtains of the velvet and gold which sheltered her, had not
listened to the discussion, having been occupied in watching the Comte
de Guiche, who was conversing with Raoul. This was a fresh misfortune
for Buckingham, who fancied he perceived in Madame Henrietta’s look a
deeper feeling than that of curiosity. He withdrew, almost tottering in
his gait, and nearly stumbled against the mainmast of the ship.
“The duke has not acquired a steady footing yet,” said the
queen-mother, in French, “and that may possibly be his reason for
wishing to find himself on firm land again.”
The young man overheard this remark, turned suddenly pale, and, letting
his hands fall in great discouragement by his side, drew aside,
mingling in one sigh his old affection and his new hatreds. The
admiral, however, without taking any further notice of the duke’s
ill-humor, led the princesses into the quarter-deck cabin, where dinner
had been served with a magnificence worthy in every respect of his
guests. The admiral seated himself at the right hand of the princess,
and placed the Comte de Guiche on her left. This was the place
Buckingham usually occupied; and when he entered the cabin, how
profound was his unhappiness to see himself banished by etiquette from
the presence of his sovereign, to a position inferior to that which, by
rank, he was entitled to. De Guiche, on the other hand, paler still
perhaps from happiness, than his rival was from anger, seated himself
tremblingly next the princess, whose silken robe, as it lightly touched
him, caused a tremor of mingled regret and happiness to pass through
his whole frame. The repast finished, Buckingham darted forward to hand
Madame Henrietta from the table; but this time it was De Guiche’s turn
to give the duke a lesson. “Have the goodness, my lord, from this
moment,” said he, “not to interpose between her royal highness and
myself. From this moment, indeed, her royal highness belongs to France,
and when she deigns to honor me by touching my hand it is the hand of
Monsieur, the brother of the king of France, she touches.”
And saying this, he presented his hand to Madame Henrietta with such
marked deference, and at the same time with a nobleness of mien so
intrepid, that a murmur of admiration rose from the English, whilst a
groan of despair escaped from Buckingham’s lips. Raoul, who loved,
comprehended it all. He fixed upon his friend one of those profound
looks which a bosom friend or mother can alone extend, either as
protector or guardian, over the one who is about to stray from the
right path. Towards two o’clock in the afternoon the sun shone forth
anew, the wind subsided, the sea became smooth as a crystal mirror, and
the fog, which had shrouded the coast, disappeared like a veil
withdrawn from before it. The smiling hills of France appeared in full
view with their numerous white houses rendered more conspicuous by the
bright green of the trees or the clear blue sky.